MISS PANNEY IS AROUSED TO HELP AND HINDER
When Dr. Tolbridge returned from the visit to the patient who lived
beyond Cobhurst, he did not drive into the latter place, for seeing
Mike by the gate near the barn, he gave the cushions and whip to him
and went on.
As it was yet early in the evening, and bright moonlight, he concluded
to go around by the Wittons'. It was not far out of his way, and he
wanted to see Miss Panney. What he wanted to say to the old lady was not
exactly evident to his own mind, but in a general way he wished her to
know that Dora was at Cobhurst.
Dora was a great favorite with the doctor. He had known her all her life,
and considered that he knew, not only her good points, of which there
were many, but also those that were not altogether desirable, and, of
which, he believed, there were few. One of the latter was her disposition
to sometimes do as she pleased, without reference to tradition or
ordinary custom. He had seen her acting the part of cook, disguised by a
pink sunbonnet and an old-fashioned calico gown. And what pranks she and
the Haverleys--two estimable young people, but also lively and
independent--might play, no one could tell. The duration of Dora's visit
would depend on her brother Herbert, and he was a man of business, whose
time was not at all at his own disposal, and so, the doctor thought, it
would not be a bad thing if Miss Panney would call at Cobhurst the next
day, and see what those three youngsters were about.
The Wittons had gone to bed, but Miss Panney was in the parlor, reading.
"Early to bed and early to rise," was not one of her rules.
"Well, really!" she exclaimed, as she rose to greet her visitor, "this is
amazing. How many years has it been since you came to see me without
being sent for?"
"I do not keep account of years," said the doctor, "and if I choose to
stop in and have a chat with you, I shall do it without reference to
precedent. This is a purely social call, and I shall not even ask you
how you are."
"I beg you will not," said the old lady, "and that will give me a good
reason for sending for you when you ought to be informed on that point."
"This is not my first social call this evening," said he. "I took supper
at Cobhurst, where Dora Bannister waited on the table."
"What do you mean?" exclaimed Miss Panney, and then the doctor told his
tale. As the old lady listened, her spirits rose higher and higher. What
extraordinary good luck! She had never planned a match that moved with
such smoothness, such celerity, such astonishing directness as this. She
did not look upon Dora's disregard of tradition and ordinary custom as an
undesirable point in her character. She liked that sort of thing. It was
one of the points in her own character.
"I wish I could have seen her!" she exclaimed. "She must have been
charming."
"Don't you think there is danger that she may be too charming?" the
doctor asked.
"No, I don't," promptly answered Miss Panney.
The doctor looked at her in some surprise.
"We should remember," said he, "that Dora is a girl of wealth; that
one-third of the Bannister estate belongs to her, besides the sixty
thousand dollars that came to her from her mother."
"That does not hurt her," said Miss Panney.
"And Ralph Haverley was a poor young man when he came here, and Cobhurst
will probably make him a good deal poorer."
"I do not doubt it," said Miss Panney.
"Do you believe," said the doctor, after a moment's pause, "that it is
wise or right in a girl like Dora Bannister, accustomed to fine living,
good society, and an atmosphere of opulence, to allow a poor man like
Ralph Haverley to fall in love with her? And he will do it, just as sure
as the world turns round."
"Well, let him do it," replied the old lady. "I did not intend to give my
opinion on this subject, because, as you know, I am not fond of obtruding
my ideas into other people's affairs, but I will say, now, that Dora
Bannister will have to travel a long distance before she finds a better
man for a husband than Ralph Haverley, or a better estate on which to
spend her money than Cobhurst. I believe that money that is made in a
neighborhood like this ought to be spent here, and Thomas Bannister's
money could not be better spent than in making Cobhurst the fine estate
it used to be. I do not believe in a girl like Dora going off and
marrying some city fellow, and perhaps spending the rest of her life at
the watering-places and Paris. I want her here; don't you?"
"I certainly do, but you forget Mr. Ames."
"I do, and I intend to forget him," she replied, "and so does Dora."
The doctor shook his head. "I do not like it," he said; "young Haverley
may be all very well,--I have a high opinion of him, already, but he is
not the man for Dora. If he had any money at all, it would be different,
but he has not. Now she would not be content to live at Cobhurst as it
is, and he ought not to be content to have her do everything to make it
what she would have it."
"Doctor," said Miss Panney, "if there is anything about all this in your
medicine books, perhaps you know more than I do, and you can go on and
talk; but you know there is not, and you know, too, that I was a very
sensible middle-aged woman when you were toddling around in frocks and
running against people. I believe you are trying to run against somebody
now. Who is it?"
"Well," said the doctor, "if it is anybody, it is young Haverley."
Miss Panney smiled. "You may think so," she said, "but I want you to know
that you are also running against me, and I say to you, confidentially,
and with as much trust in you as I used to have that you would not tell
who it was who spread your bread with forbidden jam, that I have planned
a match between these two; and if they marry, I intend to make pecuniary
matters more nearly even between them, than they are now."
The doctor looked at her earnestly.
"Do you suppose," said he, "that he would take money from you?"
"What I should do for him," she answered, "could not be prevented by him
or any one else."
"But there is no reason," urged the other.
The old lady smiled, took off her glasses, wiped them with her
handkerchief, and put them on again.
"There is so little in medicine books," she said. "His grandfather was
my cousin."
"The one--?" asked the startled doctor.
"Yes, that very one," she answered quickly; "but he does not know it,
and now we will drop the subject. I will try to get to Cobhurst
to-morrow before Dora leaves, and I will see if I cannot help matters
along a little."
The doctor laughed. "I was going to ask you to interfere with matters."
"Well, don't," she said. "And now tell me about your cook. Is she as
good as ever?"
"As good?" said the doctor. "She is better. The more she learns about our
tastes, the more perfectly she gratifies them. Mrs. Tolbridge and I look
upon her as a household blessing, for she gives us three perfect meals a
day, and would give us more if we wanted them; the butcher reverences
her, for she knows more about meat and how to cut it than he does. Our
man and our maid either tremble at her nod or regard her with the deepest
affection, for I am told that they spend a great deal of their time
helping her, when they should be attending to their own duties. She has,
in fact, become so necessary to our domestic felicity, and I may say, to
our health, that I do not know what will become of us if we lose her."
"Is there any chance of that?" eagerly asked the old lady.
"I fear there is," was the answer.
Miss Panney sprang to her feet, her eyes flashing.
"Now look here, Dr. Tolbridge," she said, "don't tell me that that woman
is going to leave you because she wants higher wages and you will not pay
them. I beg you to remember that I got you that woman. I saw she was what
you needed, and I worked matters so that she came to you. She has proved
to be everything that I expected. You are looking better now than I have
seen you look for five years. You have been eating food that you like,
and food that agrees with you, and a chance to do that comes to very few
people in your circumstances. There is no way in which you could spend
your money better than--"
The doctor raised his hand deprecatingly.
"There is no question of money," he said. "She has not asked for higher
wages, and if she had, I should pay anything in reason. The trouble is
more serious. You may remember that when she first came to this country,
she lived with the Dranes, and she left them because they could no longer
afford to employ her. She has the greatest regard for that family, and
has lately heard that they are becoming poorer and poorer. There are only
two of them,--mother and daughter,--and on account of some sort of unwise
investment they are getting into a pretty bad way. I used to know Captain
Drane, and was slightly acquainted with his family. I heard of their
misfortune through a friend in Pennsylvania, and as I knew that La Fleur
took such an interest in the family, I mentioned it to her. The result
was disastrous; she has been in a doleful mood ever since, and yesterday
assured Mrs. Tolbridge that if it should prove that Mrs. Drane and her
daughter, who had been so good to her, had become so poor that they
could not afford to employ a servant, she must leave us and go to them.
She would ask no wages and would take no denial. She would stay with them
and serve them for the love she bore them, as long as they needed her. I
know she is in earnest, for she immediately wrote to Mrs. Drane, and
asked me to put the letter in the post-office; and, by the way, she
writes a great deal better hand than I do."
Miss Panney, who had reseated herself, gazed earnestly at the floor.
"Doctor," she said, "this is very serious. I have not yet met La Fleur,
but I very much want to. I am convinced that she is a woman of character,
and when she says she intends to do a thing, she will do it. That is,
unless somebody else of character, and of pretty strong character too,
gets in her way. I do not know what advice to give you just now, but she
must not leave you. That must be considered as settled. I am coming to
your house to-morrow afternoon, and please ask Mrs. Tolbridge to be at
home. We shall then see what is to be done."
"There is nothing to be done," said the doctor, rising. "We cannot
improve the circumstances of the Dranes, and we cannot prevent La Fleur
from going to them if her feelings prompt her to do it."
"Stuff!" said the old lady. "There is always something to be done. The
trouble is, there is not always some one to do it; but, fortunately for
some of my friends, I am alive yet."